


Accident Prone

by frozensight



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-17
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-17 17:56:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2318219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accidents happen. They just happen to Peter a lot. They happen to him even more when a certain short, space-faring teenage superhero is involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accident Prone

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Oops, did I do that?.. Oh well." given to me by my friend Summer. Originally posted on tumblr, but now it's here!!
> 
> And yes, Peter's science project is a blatant reference to Summer's favorite character, Bucky Barnes, thank you for asking.

Sam surveys the jumbled mess that once was Peter’s science fair project, as he holds the baseball that had knocked over the cybernetic prosthesis that had been perched carefully on the living room table in wait for school the next day. 

“Oops, did I do that?” He shrugs as he nudges some of the metal pieces with his foot. “Oh well.” 

“Oh _well_?” Sam flinches at the sound of Peter’s voice from behind him. He slowly turns and finds the owner of the now destroyed science fair project with arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “I don’t think ‘ _oh well_ ’ is going to fix my cybernetic arm!” 

“Well, _maybe_ you shouldn’t have left it lying around out in the open!” 

“You hit it with a _baseball_ , idiot!” 

“It’s not _my_ fault that it was in the way.” 

Peter holds his hands out in front of him, like he wants to grab Sam and shake him until he breaks like the mechanical arm on the floor. “I can’t—you just—” He closes his eyes and sighs, rubbing his temples. “You know what? Nevermind, just—forget it. I’ll just stay up all night rebuilding it instead of sleeping. I moonlight as a superhero; I’m used to not sleeping.” 

He pushes Sam out of the way and gathers up the remnants of his project, completely ignoring Sam, who to his credit just awkwardly stands there, unsure what to do. “Peter, I—” 

“Don’t, Sam,” says Peter as he walks up the staircase. He doesn’t so much as look over his shoulder at Sam. “Just—don’t.” 

“Well, _crap_ ,” mumbles Sam as he rolls the baseball around in his hand, eyes fixating on where the project had ended up on the ground. He hadn’t thought of it as a big deal—the science fair isn’t even for a _grade_ —but Peter clearly cared a lot and had apparently put a lot of effort into his weird metal arm thing. 

“What’s got Parker so grouchy?” asks Ava as she walks into the living room, her bookbag over her shoulder. Before Sam could respond, she glances from him to the table where Peter’s project had been to the baseball in his hand, and just goes, “Oh Alexander, you didn’t.” 

“It’s not like I did it on _purpose_!” 

Ava rolls her eyes, stepping closer to Sam just so she could smack him upside the head. “It doesn’t matter. Peter has been working on that damn thing for _months_. He’d even gotten it to move! Who knows if he’ll be able to fix it before the fair tomorrow.” 

“Great. Now I feel like a jerk.” 

“You should.” Sam pouts at her and she scoffs back. “You broke a sophisticated piece of technology because you were being stupid and playing with a baseball inside. You’re lucky Aunt May wasn’t here.” 

“ _Fine_ , so what do I do to make it up to him?” 

“Apologize for starters.” 

“I tried that, but he cut me off!” 

Ava sighs, patting Sam’s head and reminding him again that he’s the shortest of their team. “Then _maybe_ you should try harder; offering to help him fix it wouldn’t hurt either.” 

She leaves in the direction of the kitchen, and Sam stands around in the middle of the living room for a moment before he trudges upstairs. He stops outside of Peter’s room, hand clenched around the baseball as the other is poised to knock on the door. Normally he wouldn’t even bother—the team has been staying with the Parkers for months now, and he’s actually come to see Peter’s room almost as his own—but normally the door isn’t closed either. Sam takes that as a sign that he’s really fucked up. 

He’s about to knock when he hears Peter say, “Come on in, dumbass; you’re distracting me more by hanging around outside where I can hear you thinking that you would in here with me.” 

Sam inches the door open gradually, and sheepishly enters. Peter is sitting on the floor with his tools, working on the arm, and he doesn’t even look up at Sam’s entrance. He’s too focused on reattaching the wiring from the forearm to the elbow like socket. The baseball feels too heavy in his hand, like the guilt it caused is weighing it down, so he tosses it onto the pad on the floor that serves has Sam’s bed before he sits down on it himself. 

Neither of them say anything for a while. Peter is too busy fiddling while Sam tries to come up with anything to even say. Eventually Peter sighs and puts down his tools to meet Sam’s eyes. “Apology accepted.” 

He blinks, mouth agape lamely. “W-What?” 

“Look, we both know it was an accident and you’re not playing your game, so you’re clearly feeling bad for what you did.” Peter snorts at the dumbfounded expression still on Sam’s face and adds, “Help me fix this, and I won’t hate you forever.” 

Sam huffs as he scoots closer to Peter, picking up one of the tools that had been set down. “I think I can live with that. So what’s the next step?” 

Peter smiles at him, and Sam smiles back. 


End file.
